A South Korean artist says she was late in learning the true meaning of Buddhism, and this is what she seeks to capture in her fashion designs that feature dramatic but always tasteful images of buddhas and bodhisattvas.

A bright light in the South Korean art world, Lee Ki-hyang creates clothing designs that are grounded in heartfelt Buddhist sensibility. For a decade now, this unusual contemporary artist has been making sublime use of Buddhist motifs in her wearable art. Clothing, she says, is part of life itself, and creating art is a form of devotion to the Buddha and to all of humankind. "My prayer," she says, "is that people will come to know about Buddhism through wearing or seeing my art."

Lee traveled far to find her way to clothing design and Buddhism. As an art student in Seoul in the late 1979s, she majored in sculpture, then went on to study printmaking at the Art Institute of Chicago. She liked working with color but did not like the acids and solvents used in printmaking. In 1985, while her husband was studying for a doctorate in business administration at Harvard University, Lee started attending classes at the School of Fashion Design in Boston. She quickly realized that fashion design was the field for her. After finishing at the school, she laded a job as a children's fashion designer, but eight months later her husband obtained a short-term position in Germany and the couple left the United States.

On returning to South Korea after almost ten years abroad, Lee went through a period of confusion. "I wondered who I was, where I had come from, and what I was doing," she says. "I had to find out, too, what my country was all about. I realized that I was trained in the European art tradition and knew little about Korean art."

When her mother-in-law, a devout Buddhist, suggested that she study Buddhism, Lee resisted the idea. "When I was living in the States, my mother-in-law always used to send me letters that I later realized had a touch of Buddhism about them. They were about everyday things but flavored with Buddhism. At the time, though, I still confused Buddhism with shamanism, and I didn't like shamanism because of the strong colors associated with it."

Although she was not much interested, Lee eventually attended a series of lectures on Buddhist fundamentals, and the lectures ended up changing her life. "I was stunned to discover what Buddhism was really about," she says. "I was chagrined that I hadn't encountered it until I was thirty-five, but so happy that I finally did. Buddhism teaches that everyone is a potential buddha and able therefore to fulfill their boundless possibilities. I felt there was much to do before I died, much to show the world."

Shortly after her return to South Korea, Lee was offered a teaching post at a two-year college of fashion design. That led, in 1992, to her master's degree in design. She numerous group exhibitions in her own country, in Germany, and in the United States. Since 1996 she has been an assistant professor in the Division of Fashion Design and Business at Hansung University in Seoul, where she teaches courses in wearable art and design process. She also does research on a variety of topics related to Korean textiles and costume.

With her husband, Yoo Pil-hwa, now a professor of marketing and a fellow Buddhist, Lee continues to deepen her faith and enrich her appreciation of Buddhist art, having made pilgrimages to India and Myanmar (Burma) and to Buddhist sites in China. In future she hopes to have an audience with Dalai Lama in Dharamsala and to visit Tibet.

In 1994 Lee traveled to Japan with her daughter to study at the Bunka Fashion College in Tokyo. She was hesitant about going to Japan because of the history of brutal Japanese treatment of the Koreans after Japan annexed the Korean peninsula. At the same time, she was curious, because Japan is a "prosperous Buddhist country with much to offer."

In Japan, Lee says, she learned that real Buddhism is not found in sutras but in behavior to other people. She happened to meet some followers of a new Buddhist sect called Shinnyo-en. They impressed her with how they applied the Buddhist teaching to daily life and practiced them with a thoughtful consideration of others that embodied the Buddha's words.

Back in Seoul again in 1995, the artist immersed herself in preparing for "Towards the World Beyond," a solo exhibition held late that year. It took her nine months to create the nine costumes for the show, which were inspired by the hanging paintings displayed in Korean temple courtyards for sacred performances of music and dance. These performances by specially dressed priests in homage to the Buddha were once common at Korean temples. The costumes in "Towards the World Beyond," all of cotton, were painted by hand with often dramatic yet always refined images of Amitabul (Amitabha), the paradisiac buddha; Sokkamoni (Shakyamuni), the historical buddha; Kwanseum (Avalokiteshvara), the bodhisattva of the nether world; and Tongjin, the bodhisattva who protects the lotus of the True Law. Others depict graceful mudras (hand gestures), devas (celestial beings), and lotus blossoms.

In Buddhism Lee had found the answer to her personal confusion an well as an appreciation for Korean arts, culture, and history. Traditional Buddhist paintings impress with their freshness of color and composition. Classical Buddhist painters, says Lee, both express their time and proclaim the breadth of Buddhist thought. She believes that contemporary creators of Buddhist art must likewise create works that combine modern sensibility with the richness of tradition.

When working on the costumes for the 1996 show, she was always aware that the images she was painting would ultimately be fitted on the human body. "All the while I was painting, I was thinking about breasts, waists, hips, and legs and exaggerating all these parts of the body, making the waist slimmer, hips bigger, and so on. Then I put the painted fabric on a mannequin, moved it around, and decided where to change and deform things. After that, I made the pattern, then cut the fabric."

Though inspired by Korean and Chinese Buddhist paintings and murals, Lee did not just reproduce ancient images. The faces on her buddhas and bodhisattvas are not those of traditional Korean Buddhist art; rather they reflect her view of things in 1995. Some Buddhist priests who attended the show were not happy with those faces, but their criticism did not bother Lee. "My job is to make Buddhist art live in the modern world and to make people happy. I want to be a messenger of the Buddha's teaching to the world. To me, making my designs and religion are the same." Nonetheless, she dislikes being called a "Buddhist artist."

"I'm an artist. I do what I do not just for other Buddhists, but for people all over the world. I admire American artists who make art out of their national flag, and that's the kind of thing I'm trying to do," Lee says.

Korean Buddhism and shamanism both make use of vivid colors that are not much to the artist's liking. She prefers complementary colors, which she always tones down with gray. "I like aquamarine blues through emerald greens, but have to be careful not to use them too much. Oranges and greens are much more Korean." For the show she used greens and oranges in subtle shades, toned down with natural lights and darks to suggest a patina. "I cannot work without gray," emphasizes Lee, who also antiqued the fabric surface by later painting cracks on it. "I very much like the delicate patina that comes with age."

One of her strongest supporters, her mother-in-law, almost every day brings friends, relatives, and people from her temple to Lee's shows and exhibits. "We live with my parents-in-law," Lee says. "I am very grateful because I am able to do what I want to outside the house and the take care of things at home. It's the Buddhist concept of family support, and such harmony between the generations is quite unusual these days."

"Mandala Revelation," Lee's next major solo show, was held in 1999. If the underlying theme of the 1995 show was Buddhism in general, that of the 1999 show was the Lotus Sutra. "Reading this magnificent epic," Lee says, "moved me to tears and great joy because it convinced me that every human being can become a buddha. It gave me absolute confidence in human beings because of their innate buddha-natures. I felt waves of sincere gratitude that I was able to encounter the Dharma in this life." The sutra also reminded her of Mount Gridhrakuta (Vulture Peak), which she had visited in India.

Lee based her show on the oldest and most elaborate Korean Buddhist ceremony, called youngsanjae, which is performed is praise of the Buddha and the truth of his teaching. It commemorates a spectacle that took place twenty-five centuries ago on Mount Gridhrakuta (called Youngsan in Korean), the auspicious vulture-shaped peak in India. The purpose of the ceremony, Lee explains, is to bring the Buddha's teachings to all beings, living and dead, through song and dance. In this way, the spirits of the dead are led to salvation and paradise, flowers rain down from the heavens, and the earth shakes six times to celebrate the joyous event. The ceremony, once an occasion for a village festival, starts with the symbolic arrival of buddhas and bodhisattvas from all over the universe, followed by the ritual cleansing of the dead spirits. Tapestries, paintings, and handmade paper lotuses and other flowers decorate the temple courtyard and hall, and chants, songs, and dances are performed. The spirits listen to the teachings and are saved.

"Although it is a profound religious ceremony dedicated to saving the world and even the spirits of the dead," Lee says, "the youngsanjae is a composite art form executed in festival-like atmosphere. It is amazing to me that the Lotus Sutra Deals with universal space and time and legs and exaggerating all these parts of the body, making the waist slimmer, hips bigger, and so on. Then I put the painted fabric on a mannequin, moved it around, and decided where to change and deform things. After that, I made the pattern, then cut the fabric."

Though inspired by Korean and Chinese Buddhist paintings and murals, Lee did not just reproduce ancient images. The faces on her buddhas and bodhisattvas are not those of traditional Korean Buddhist art; rather they reflect her view of things in 1995. Some Buddhist priests who attended the show were not happy with those faces, but their criticism did not bother Lee. "My job is to make Buddhist art live in the modern world and to make people happy. I want to be a messenger of the Buddha's teaching to the world. To me, making my designs and religion are the same." Nonetheless, she dislikes being called a "Buddhist artist."

"I'm an artist. I do what I do not just for other Buddhists, but for people all over the world. I admire American artists who make art out of their national flag, and that's the kind of thing I'm trying to do," Lee says.

Korean Buddhism and shamanism both make use of vivid colors that are not much to the artist's liking. She prefers complementary colors, which she always tones down with gray. "I like aquamarine blues through emerald greens, but have to be careful not to use them too much. Oranges and greens are much more Korean." For the show she used greens and oranges in subtle shades, toned down with natural lights and darks to suggest a patina. "I cannot work without gray," emphasizes Lee, who also antiqued the fabric surface by later painting cracks on it. "I very much like the delicate patina that comes with age."

One of her strongest supporters, her mother-in-law, almost every day brings friends, relatives, and people from her temple to Lee's shows and exhibits. "We live with my parents-in-law," Lee says. "I am very grateful because I am able to do what I want to outside the house and the take care of things at home. It's the Buddhist concept of family support, and such harmony between the generations is quite unusual these days."

"Mandala Revelation," Lee's next major solo show, was held in 1999. If the underlying theme of the 1995 show was Buddhism in general, that of the 1999 show was the Lotus Sutra. "Reading this magnificent epic," Lee says, "moved me to tears and great joy because it convinced me that every human being can become a buddha. It gave me absolute confidence in human beings because of their innate buddha-natures. I felt waves of sincere gratitude that I was able to encounter the Dharma in this life." The sutra also reminded her of Mount Gridhrakuta (Vulture Peak), which she had visited in India.

Lee based her show on the oldest and most elaborate Korean Buddhist ceremony, called youngsanjae, which is performed is praise of the Buddha and the truth of his teaching. It commemorates a spectacle that took place twenty-five centuries ago on Mount Gridhrakuta (called Youngsan in Korean), the auspicious vulture-shaped peak in India. The purpose of the ceremony, Lee explains, is to bring the Buddha's teachings to all beings, living and dead, through song and dance. In this way, the spirits of the dead are led to salvation and paradise, flowers rain down from the heavens, and the earth shakes six times to celebrate the joyous event. The ceremony, once an occasion for a village festival, starts with the symbolic arrival of buddhas and bodhisattvas from all over the universe, followed by the ritual cleansing of the dead spirits. Tapestries, paintings, and handmade paper lotuses and other flowers decorate the temple courtyard and hall, and chants, songs, and dances are performed. The spirits listen to the teachings and are saved.

"Although it is a profound religious ceremony dedicated to saving the world and even the spirits of the dead," Lee says, "the youngsanjae is a composite art form executed in festival-like atmosphere. It is amazing to me that the Lotus Sutra Deals with universal space and time and encompasses buddhas and bodhisattvas from different universes. Buddhism has taught me to take a broad view of thing."

Lee approached her show, which was held at a Seoul gallery, as if it was an opera of a Zen ritual. She devoted two years to preparation, designing nineteen costumes, as well as the setting and lighting, and commissioning the music and dances. Painting the costumes for the 1995 show by hand had taught her a lesson; for these costumes she stenciled patterns on black tussah silk and sheer organdy. Though she used the traditional Korean colors of res, blue, yellow, black, and white on her costumes, she muted them with gray to eliminate any hint of shamanism and make the colors compatible with the black fabric. Models, posing as bodhisattvas, wore nine of the costumes; the other ten were displayed on the first floor of the two-floor gallery, which was strewn with paper lotuses. Lee had her elegant bodhisattvas walk down the stairs from the second floor, to the surprise of the audience seated among the paper lotuses below.Audience reaction was overwhelming; ordinary spectators and art critics alike were stunned and moved. Most gratifying to Lee, the show made people think about what Buddhist design could and should be. There often is little difference, she points out, between the refined art that can be seen in temple halls and the inexpensive souvenirs sold at the temples. She believes, however, that art based on the Buddha's teaching should be infused with the sincere compassion manifested by all the buddhas who have appeared in the world.

Lee sees "Mandala Revelation" as a new interpretation of the Lotus Sutra for the twenty-first century. Her aim in creating the pieces was to express the might of the truth of the Dharma and praise the Buddha and his great mercy. Understanding religion by means of art, she believes, is the best and easiest way to disseminate Buddhism, or any religion.

"I want to serve people while expressing the Buddha's words to the world though my art. My dream is one day to have a wonderful museum filled with my Buddhist designs, with a Korean-style teahouse and lotus pond.